The Static Speaks My Name
by LIFE the RANGER
Summary: WARNING: CONTAINS TRIGGERS! One-shot. Jason spends his life thinking and feeling worthless. The only bright spot in his life is Percy, who happens to be his best friend. Sometimes, though, Jason finds it hard to keep a level head. Especially when everything in life seems to want to beat him down. And when he can hear them calling... This is rated M. Proceed with caution.


Lots of warnings before this story: it does contain depressing thoughts, slight self-harm, and suicide. Read at your own risk. This is an example of something I've seen, not my own life (thank god). And please, if any of you feel this way, this isn't worth it. There are other ways. Don't give up.

…

Jason's POV

…

I woke up and punched the snooze button on my alarm clock. But I wasn't tired. Far from it. I folded my hands over my chest and stared at my blank ceiling, silent and emotionless, like I did every morning. As soon as my alarm went off, I was up for the day. When my alarm went off again, I turned it off and stood. I went about the mundane task of picking out something to wear. I selected sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, desperately trying to hide my bony frame. I hadn't been this skinny in…well, ever. I studied myself in my mirror on the wall. My cheeks were hollow, and there were dark bags under my eyes, easily recognizable since my skin was deathly pale. I'd come a long way down from the tan surfer-looking guy I'd been.

I peeked out into the hall, trying in vain to hear my family. Nothing. They weren't up yet. Good. I snuck down the hall, gathered my things, grabbed an apple for breakfast, and left. I walked to school, moodily munching on the apple. I finished half, which was good for me, before I threw it away in the garbage can outside of school. I sat down on the steps, dropping my backpack down on the step in front of me. I took out my notebook, my only solace, and began to write. Not long after, my best friend, Percy Jackson, dropped wordlessly beside me. He nudged me with his elbow.

"What's up Jay?" he asked softly. I didn't look up from my notebook. He watched me for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied softly. I finally looked up at him. "Why wouldn't I be?" He studied me for a long time. Then he reached into his bag. He got out something and began smearing cream on my face, most likely to disguise the bags under my eyes. I let him. He did it every day. When he was done, he got some blush out of his bag. He dusted my cheeks with it. "Thanks," I said, looking back down at my notebook. He must've been picking up on my routine, because he was here a lot earlier than he normally was.

"No problem," he responded. He lightly touched my arm. "Jay, you'd tell me if you weren't okay, right? You'd let me know you were struggling?" I sighed. He asked me that every single day. "I just don't want you to hurt yourself Jay," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I worry about you."

"I'll let you know," I said, still not looking up at him. I didn't want to meet his gaze. "Mom gave me new medication, you know," I said. "My depression's a little better." I guess I should explain myself a little more. For the last few years, I've suffered from depression and mood swings, side effects of the intense bullying I went through. It's gotten steadily worse, and doctors refused to diagnose me until they were 100% sure that was the case. Last year, they officially diagnosed me with depression and immediately set up therapy sessions, as well as getting me medication. I was waiting for the official report that I also had bipolar disorder. I was sure I was.

"You promise?" Percy asked. "I don't want anything to happen to you Jay. You're still young." I looked up at him, and immediately wished I hadn't. He was so concerned. I dropped my gaze. I heard murmurs, and I jerked to attention. Clarisse, Chris, and their gang were walking by, on their way into the school. On her way by, Clarisse stomped on my hand, hard, since it was just laying limply by my side. I drew my hand up to my chest, cradling the injured fingers.

"Freak," she muttered just loud enough for me to hear. "I don't understand why they keep him around. It's not like he contributes." I glanced down at the cement steps, feeling hot tears tracing trails down my cheeks.

"Or has any purpose," Chris sneered. "He's totally worthless. He should just kill himself."

"Hey!" Percy shouted, rising angrily. Percy was one of the most popular kids in school, so it was a surprise that he was my best friend. "Don't talk like Jason like that. He isn't worthless, and he definitely shouldn't kill himself." But Clarisse and Chris just laughed. "God Jay, don't listen to them," Percy said, sitting down beside me again. "You aren't worthless, okay? You mean a lot to a lot of people."

"Kay," I replied, but I didn't believe him. Not one bit. My sister hated me. My mom was tired of me. My dad hadn't even bothered to stick around until I was born. He up and left when mom was eight months pregnant with me. Even my teachers had given up on me. They didn't ask for school work, they didn't call on me for answers or to read out loud, they didn't even bother making sure I showed up. I'd skipped entire days without one complaint. The only person who remotely cared about me was Percy. And I had a feeling he was reaching his limit.

I closed my notebook and rose. Percy fell in step beside me as I made my way to my locker. I glanced at him. He'd been a good friend indeed. I shook my head sadly. I wasn't happy about the way my day (and night) were going to go. In fact, I would be sad for Percy, if I felt much emotion at this time. But I'd become so numb over the years. Occasionally, the words and names stung and cut like knives. I glanced around. Everyone pointed at me and whispered, no doubt talking about the silent weirdo. I didn't talk at school; what was the point? There wasn't a point. No one liked me anyway. I'd been the oddball since grade school, and I'd always remain that way.

"I've gotta get going," Percy said to me, gripping my upper arm. He dug his fingernails in until I looked at him. "I'll catch you later, okay?" I nodded mutely, all the while thinking that, no, he really wouldn't. But bless him for trying. For the first time in what felt like years, I felt the urge to smile. And I allowed myself that simple pleasure. I let the corners of my mouth turn up a little, but my almost-smile disappeared as soon as it had come. What was the point of smiling when everything would just make me frown again? I suppressed the urge to sigh, because I did that a lot anyway. I shouldered my school bag, hugging my notebook to my chest. In my bleak existence, it had been my only silver lining. I guess Percy could've as well, but I depended on my notebook more than I did on my best friend. Which was probably sad, if I were able to feel like that.

I made my way to my first class, ignoring the stares from my classmates. I sat in my seat, which was towards the middle. It was a math class, but fuck if I paid attention. My teacher didn't bother calling me out on my inattentiveness either. She just let me write to my heart's content. I usually wrote poems or short songs, or really short stories. Some hit me in the back of the head with a small book, but I didn't react. I couldn't react. I wished I could will myself to feel something, anything, towards what they were doing to me. I knew it wasn't write. But I also didn't have the energy to stop it.

"Little freak," someone behind me whispered. Probably Clarisse or one of her cronies. "Why bother showing up to school every day little freak? No one would even miss you. You should just kill yourself." I sank a little lower in my seat. They couldn't see I'd tried that. I tapped my wrists against the table, where my scars were just visible under my shirt. Couldn't they tell I knew no one would miss me? Didn't they know?

…

When I got home, no one else was there. Good. Thalia wouldn't care anyway. She still hated me. I often thought mom didn't know I existed. Also good. I set my bag on the kitchen table. My stomach growled. Well, I suppose a little snack wouldn't hurt me. I rooted through the fridge, which was mostly empty. I sighed. I looked through our cupboards, but they were mostly empty as well. I did notice, however, a package of Oreo cookies. Well, I hated chocolate, but, they'd do. I grabbed a handful, taking them to my room. My notebook was tucked under my arm, ready to be used. The front cover was starting to fall off, but there was no way I'd ask anyone for a binder for it. I'd suffer.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, pulling my laptop to myself. I logged into Twitter, another one of those stupid sites that I didn't get, but for some reason had. I had exactly zero followers, but I followed a lot of famous people, like bands and YouTubers. I didn't see anything interesting, so I switched to Facebook. But Facebook didn't yield any results either, expect for a few random messages. I closed my laptop. I didn't really want to use it anyway. I rarely used my laptop for anything, unless it was homework or occasionally chatting with Percy on Skype. I nibbled on one of my cookies. It tasted gross, but I knew I had to eat something if I didn't want to waste away.

"Good, you're here." I jerked up. Percy sat down on my bed, with this other kid in tow. Nico di Angelo. He was one of those kids that didn't bully me, but he didn't talk to me. But he was one of Percy's closest friends. "I was really worried when I didn't see you after school. We planned to walk home together, remember?"

"Oh, was that today?" I asked, blinking. I had trouble keeping track of promises I'd made. "Sorry Percy. I'll try really hard to remember next time." Percy placed a hand on my arm, and I flinched. I didn't really like physical contact, even if it was Percy.

"It's alright Jay," he said. "I don't expect you to remember things." Speaking of remembering things, I'd forgotten I had a text message I hadn't seen yet. I fished my phone out of my pocket.

"Hey freak," I read aloud, my heart sinking slightly. "What good do you do to the school? You do jack shit. Why bother? This world would be better off without you." Percy took my phone from me, stuffing it in his pocket. "Percy, my phone…" I tried weakly.

"You're not getting this back," Percy said, running his fingers over my wrists. "You're not letting them drive you to this again. Are you sure you're okay Jason? You seem a little off."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "I'd let you know if I wasn't. Look." I held up an Oreo. "I'm even eating. Don't worry about me, alright? You and Nico look like you're going somewhere. Where is that?"

"We were just going to go grab some dinner," Nico replied. "Do you wanna come?" I shook my head, trying my best for a smile. I think my muscles forgot how to make a smile though, because Nico gave me an odd look. Percy, however, beamed at me. He knew what I was trying to do.

"If no one is home later, call me on your landline, okay?" he said, gently kissing my forehead. No, we weren't dating. He just did that because he wanted me to feel some form of love. "I'll come spend the night with you again." I nodded, but I wasn't going to call him. He and Nico left. I set my Oreos aside. I wasn't hungry anymore. Not after whoever sent that. I mean, I knew it to be true, but I never felt hungry in the first place. I got out my notebook, hoping for some comfort and protection. My stories kept me somewhat sane. I wrote a quick poem, then slashed an x through it. I hated it. I sat on the edge of my bed, putting my head between my knees.

My life truly sucked. Some days I had to remind myself there was good. There was always something good, right? What was my good thing that was coming? Was the universe waiting for the right time? Or was I literally just shit outta luck at this point. I mean, my family pretty much hated or ignored me, my only friend was a popular boy who tended to mother me, and my classmates treated me like shit. This wasn't a first time thought like this. I'd been thinking about this every day, day in and day out, for years.

And that was a bad thing. I took medication to help my mood, sure, but what about my thoughts? My memories? There was no medicine in the world that could help with those. The things I desperately wanted to forget, I couldn't escape. Even if I ran, they ran. If I hid, they hid. It was like fighting a losing battle some days. I hated my life. I hated the memories of what once was. I knew, deep down I _knew_ , that I'd once been happy. Thalia once loved me, like siblings were supposed to do. Mom once gave me all the attention in the world. I was her little baby boy. I desperately missed those days sometimes. But then other days I wished I'd never been born, then I wouldn't have these vivid memories. Then I wouldn't have to think of what once was.

I pulled my notebook to myself. I scribbled something out quick, setting my notebook, open to the page, on my bed. I could hear them calling me tonight. I almost smiled. Almost. I still couldn't muster up a feeling of happiness. I wandered down to Thalia's room, peeking in. The walls were painted dark blue, a color she really liked. I helped paint those walls. I went to mom's room, standing at the foot of her bed. This was a place of comfort and acceptance. And tears. Mom never knew it, but there were nights where I stood next to her bed, listening to her babble incoherently in her sleep. Or cuddle with her and watch her silent tears, eyes closed.

I made my way to the living room, standing in the middle, near the couch. That was in front of our big picture window. The same window we decorated every holiday. Or, the window we used to decorate, before we were no longer a loving family. Family pictures cluttered the walls. Most were of Thals and I, when we were younger. One wall was entirely dedicated to school pictures. We were slowly but surely making a timeline. Again, I almost smiled. But I refrained. I looked into our barren kitchen briefly, but it held no happy memories, so I didn't linger.

Finally, I went to my backyard. An old, worn wooden fence surrounded our property. It was mostly so our neighbors couldn't spy on us, but it was also so Thalia and I, when we were kids, could play back here without worries. Our rusted swing set stood, forlorn, in the corner near the back. One seat was cracked, and we were missing the slide but it had been one of our favorite things during the summer and winter. Our trampoline, partially sunken into the ground, was abandoned in the other corner. I'd spent many summer nights jumping and leaping with Thalia and Percy, unaware of what my future held.

My last stop was somewhere very special to me. On the way by, I gently ran a hand over the wooden board that was our swing. I glanced up, where our tree house was. I hadn't been in it in years, but I suddenly, desperately wanted to see the inside again, now that it was older. I climbed the boards nailed to the tree and swung the hatch open, coughing at the cloud of dust that arose with the action. I emerged into a different world. A carefree world. Toys still littered the floor, and a pint sized table overtook the far wall. A dusty, mini-bookshelf held sticks, rocks, toys, books, and a few other knick knacks. I ran a thumb over the top. It came back black. I gazed around at the wooden walls. Most held artwork. Either by me, Thalia, or Percy.

"God, it's been forever," I whispered, my voice sounding strange after so long of silence. "Maybe I should've come up here more often." And maybe I should've. But, I hadn't. Maybe it would've saved me in the end. I gently ran a hand over the etching near the door. Mine and Percy's names with smiley faces around them. I chuckled. We'd been six when we'd painstakingly carved our names into the wall with a sharpened stick and a pen. I sighed again. I missed this place. I was glad I was up here. I was even gladder when I saw the rope we kept up here when we were pretending to play fire escape.

I grabbed the rope, giving it a few tugs. It seemed sturdy. I reached up and securely knotted it on the branch that cut through the middle of the tree house. I looped the other end around my neck, testing the knots. Tight.

"I wish I could say this to everyone in person," I whispered. "Goodbye dad, wherever you are. Goodbye mom, even if you don't know I exist anymore. Goodbye Thalia, even though you hate me now. Goodbye Nico. I wish I could've gotten to know you better. And goodbye Percy. Thank you for being the best thing that's ever happened to me." I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes. I could hear them calling me again, beckoning me to join them. All the lost and broken souls. They were calling my name.

And then I dropped.

…

Oh my god, I got to the end and I almost stopped. Jesus Christ, I'm sorry for the feels trip. If you made it this far, brava. Also, if you ever, _ever_ , feel like this, please talk to someone. Talk to your friends, or your family, or a counselor, or someone. Hell, if you trust me enough, you can talk to me. Don't you ever feel like the world would be better without you. Even if you feel like you don't matter to someone, you matter to me. It may not help, but you matter to me. I love you guys.


End file.
